


VOH-Hair of the Dog

by ginwannabe



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:33:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24956146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ginwannabe/pseuds/ginwannabe
Summary: A year and a half after the final battle, Hermione is having a very bad day.  *Companion piece to Veterans of Hogwarts, but can be read separately.*
Relationships: Hannah Abbott/Neville Longbottom, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Kudos: 11





	VOH-Hair of the Dog

**Author's Note:**

> This story is a companion piece to Veterans of Hogwarts. It stands on its own, but you may want to read VoH as well. As always, I own none of the characters, nor the Harry Potter world, that honor is reserved for Ms. Rowling.

Hermione Granger was in a foul mood. Just who did Professor Brant think he was? She looked down at her essay for her Muggle literature class in which she’d gotten a B+. _B+_? It deserved an A, it was an in depth and analytical review of the classic story, _The Scarlet Letter_ , and the comments written on it in the bold, red, ball point pen read, “pedantic and literal.” Her blood started to boil just thinking about it. She threw the paper into her oversized bag and slung it over her shoulder as she stormed out of the classroom.

“Have a good evening, Ms. Granger,” Professor Brant called after her as she stormed out in a tone that clearly said he knew he was the cause of the frown on her face, and he didn’t care.

She loved to read and had always done well in her literature classes. Professor Brant, however, was bound and determined to not like her, or her views. She was beginning to wonder if he was a squib who felt threatened by her talent as a muggle-born witch.

“Pedantic, indeed,” she muttered under her breath as she pulled her coat further around her as the bitter February wind cut through her. She walked toward the area of campus that was reserved for Apparating and with a quick turn arrived with a pop inside the flat she shared with Ginny.

She dumped her bag and coat on the chair by the fireplace and walked into the kitchen to try to find something to eat. She cursed silently when she saw there was nothing worth eating in the icebox or the cabinets. Ginny was supposed to have gone shopping for groceries before heading out of town with the Holyhead Harpies for a two-week exhibition tour. She obviously hadn’t deemed it necessary since she wasn’t going to be around to eat it. As she turned around Hermione saw the letter that had arrived just that morning. Pig had arrived as she was making some toast and nearly gave himself a concussion tapping on the window. She had been pleased to see him and had quickly let him in and fed him some treats. She ripped open the envelope from Ron, only to find a short note that said, _“This picture was taken after class last week, I thought you’d like to have it. –Ron._ ” She looked at the picture and saw written on the back of it, Harry, Jo and Me. She turned the picture over to see Harry and Ron’s smiling faces, but between them was a very pretty, blonde whose hair was tied up in a loose ponytail. It appeared as if they’d just completed a difficult training exercise as the three were brushing dust off themselves and looked flushed and tired, although exhilarated. Hermione knew that Jo had been partnered with Ron in training but had not realized how beautiful she was. What bothered her though was that the photograph Jo kept looking at Ron, with what could only be called _lust_ in her eyes. Seeing this picture only served to worsen Hermione’s mood. She hadn’t seen Ron since he’d left for Auror training the end of August, six months ago. It was the longest they’d ever been apart. He hadn’t even been able to come home for Christmas. Hermione was beginning to wonder if Jo wasn’t one of the reasons she didn’t hear from Ron more frequently. Ginny heard from Harry almost every other day, but she usually only got one or two letters a week. Feeling even more insecure, as well as more than a little hungry, Hermione decided to go out for dinner. She hated eating out by herself, but there certainly wasn’t anything in the flat worth having. She grabbed her coat and gloves and her pocketbook and apparated to the Leaky Cauldron.

She arrived in Diagon Alley just outside the entrance to the pub and pushed open the door. She heard the tinkle of a small bell overhead ring out her arrival. She looked around and found a small table in the corner out of the way and sat down at it. She wasn’t surprised to see her friend Hannah Abbott come out from behind the bar and walk towards her. Hannah had taken a job at the pub to help pay her expenses as she too went to university.

“Good evening, Hermione. It’s lovely to see you, what can I get for you tonight?” Hannah said with her broad grin.

“Firewhisky, and the house stew, please,” Hermione said without a smile for her friend.

“Is everything all right, Hermione? You don’t usually order more than a butterbeer,” Hannah looked at her slightly concerned.

“I’m fine, it’s just been a rotten day, and I’d like a firewhisky,” Hermione grumbled back.

“Certainly, it’ll be right out.” Hannah turned and walked back toward the bar, stopping as she arrived to look back at Hermione. She most definitely was not fine. She sighed as she put the order in and poured the shot of firewhisky herself. She waved her wand to send the glass over to Hermione’s table.

Hermione looked up as the shot glass gently set itself down on the table. She slowly picked it up and twisted the glass in her hands watching as the amber liquid swirled around the edge of it. She swallowed it in one gulp and winced as she felt it burn all the way down to her stomach.

“Another,” she said to the glass and it quickly refilled itself, this time the firewhisky slid down easier.

She was on her third glass when Hannah brought over the bowl of hearty stew and a large slab of bread to go with it.

“Hermione, are you sure you wouldn’t like to talk about anything? I have a break coming up soon, but I could probably take it a little early.”

“I tol’ you I’m fine, Hannah,” Hermione slurred slightly, “just a rotten day, and I nee’ to relax a li’l.”

Hermione ate her stew and bread and had two more shots. She didn’t notice the tinkling of the bell that announced the arrival of another patron, nor did she see the nod that Hannah made in her direction to the new arrival. She leaned over to pick up her pocketbook and fell out of her chair.

“Bugger it all,” she mumbled under her breath as she tried to right herself. She was startled when two big hands lifted her up and set her back in her chair.

“Alright, there, Hermione?” Neville asked looking at her with concern in his eyes.

“I’m fine, Neville, why does everyone keep askin’ me that?” She appeared to be trying to focus on his eyes but was looking slightly to the left. He wondered just how many of him she saw. “Where ish Hannah? I wanna pay, so I can go home.” Neville had never heard Hermione speak in anything but clear diction, it was kind of cute in a sad way.

“Why don’t we consider this my treat, and I’ll take you home. You’re in no condition to apparate yourself home tonight.”

Hermione started to argue, but quickly closed her mouth, as she didn’t remember what exactly she was arguing against. Neville helped her out of the chair and wrapped his arm around her waist to support her weight as he guided her toward the bar where Hannah was wiping down glasses. He handed her two galleons and said, “Keep the change,” with a wink, and led Hermione out the door. He wrapped his arms around her to keep her steady as he turned and apparated them both into the alley behind her flat.

“I take it Ginny is away with the team, if you were eating by yourself this evening?” he asked as he helped her up the steps. Hermione was in the process of pulling out her wand when a muggle couple passed by. Neville quickly took her wand out of her hand and whispered, “Perhaps we should use the key.”

She seemed to be having a difficult time extracting the key from her pocketbook, so he rummaged through until he found it, and used it to unlock the door to the flat. Hermione stumbled through the door and collapsed into a chair beside the fireplace. She attempted to find her wand to light a fire, but Neville still had it. She frowned when she couldn’t find it.

“Where the bloody hell did I put my wand?” Neville chuckled slightly as he finished shutting the door. He’d never heard her swear before.

“I have it, Hermione, would you like me to light the fire?”

Hermione nodded and looked as if doing so had set the room spinning. He pointed his own wand at the logs in the fireplace and whispered, _Incendio_ , and bright yellow flames quickly started licking the logs.

He looked at Hermione and was surprised to see tears streaming down her face. He quickly crossed the room and knelt before her.

“Hermione, please tell me what’s wrong. Harry and Ron asked me to look after you while they were gone, how can I do that if you won’t tell me what’s going on?”

At this, Hermione let out a strangled sob, “Ron doesn’t bloody care what happens to me, he’s got…he’s got…he’s got, Jo-o-o-o,” she managed to get out between hiccupping sobs.

Neville wasn’t exactly sure what to do; he wasn’t particularly good with women, especially upset ones. He’d only been dating Hannah for a few months and thankfully had only seen her cry once during that time. He pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to Hermione.

“Who is this Joe, bloke?” Neville asked confused.

“She’s no bloke! She’s Ron’s partner and she’s bloody gorgeous, and she’s there, and I’m n-o-o-o-t,” she moaned again.

She waved her wand and the photograph that had arrived that morning came zooming in from the kitchen. Neville caught it out of the air and looked down at it. Jo was certainly a beautiful girl, with big, blue eyes, and high cheek bones. She seemed to have spent quite a bit of time in the sun and was certainly no stranger to working out. Neville was no expert in women, but it did seem as though the girl was looking at Ron with something more than friendship in her eyes. Ron however, seemed to be oblivious to the look she was giving him as he continued to brush himself off repeatedly and laugh into the camera. Harry, who was on the other side of her in the photograph, also seemed more interested in whatever joke had been told just prior to the photo being taken.

“Hermione, Ron loves you. I’m sure there is nothing going on with them. He’d be foolish to ruin what he’s got with you. You’re amazing,” he said with all honestly.

Hermione looked down at Neville in her alcohol induced haze and hiccupped again, she reached her hand up to touch his face and leaned down and kissed him firmly on the lips. Neville was so taken aback that he didn’t even think to stop it before she’d pulled away.

She leaned her head back and closed her eyes and yawned as she said, “Neville, you really are the sweetest person…I’ve…ever…met.” He looked at her as she let out a soft snore.

~*~

Hermione awoke the next morning feeling as though the Sahara Desert had taken up residence in her mouth while she slept. She attempted to open her eyes, but even that small act was a feat of monumental proportions. She let out a soft moan as she once again made to open her eyes. She recognized her bedroom but wasn’t entirely certain how she had gotten there. The last thing she remembered was Neville showing up at the Leaky and bringing her home. She struggled to sit up in bed and saw that the rubbish bin that was normally beside her desk had been placed by the bed. She had just registered this fact, when she had an overwhelming urge to vomit and grabbed it just in time. She saw a glass of water sitting on the nightstand beside her bed and slowly sipped it. As she leaned against the headboard of her bed holding the cool glass to her forehead, she attempted to piece together the events of the evening before. She remembered leaving class upset and coming home to find no food in the flat and seeing that bloody picture sitting on the table. She remembered going to the Leaky Cauldron, eating, drinking, Neville offering to take her home. Things were a bit fuzzy after that; fire, tears, that bloody picture again, and then...

“Bloody hell, what did I do?” Hermione gasped. She was startled to hear a soft knock on the door. Had Ginny come home early? “Come in?” she whispered.

Neville peeked his head around the door as he began to open it. “I thought I heard you. I have something here that should help you feel better.”

He came in the rest of the way and was carrying a small bottle, “Here, drink this,” he said as he pulled the cork out and handed it to her, “Hannah brought it by last night. She called it ‘The Hair of the Dog’ and she said it should help with the hangover.”

Hermione reached out and took the bottle without making eye contact with Neville. She took a deep breath and then swallowed the contents of the bottle in one fell swoop. It tasted a bit like firewhisky, but had the opposite effect, instead of burning on the way down, this felt ice cold as it made its way. She shivered, but almost instantly the throbbing behind her eyes seemed to slow and it was easier to focus. It still hurt to move her head, but not nearly as much as it had just a minute ago.

“Thank you,” she whispered, “what are you still doing here?”

Neville noticed that she was not looking at him, but at the pattern on the blanket he had covered her with.

“I promised Ron and Harry I’d look out for you. I couldn’t very well leave you in that state knowing what you’d feel like when you woke up this morning. They’d kill me,” he chuckled.

Hermione looked up at him and couldn’t keep the blush from creeping up. Had she really kissed him last night?

“Um…thank you very much, Neville. That was really kind of you. I’m feeling better already, though. You don’t need to stay.”

“Nonsense. Hannah is going to be bringing some breakfast by after you’ve had a chance to wake up and are feeling up to it.”

“Really, Neville, that isn’t necessary, I’m feeling much better, I’m sure I can come up with something.”

“Not bloody likely, from the looks of that kitchen,” he said with another laugh, “I gave Crookshanks the last of the cat food this morning.”

“Yes, well, Ginny was supposed to buy some food before she left, I guess she didn’t have time,” Hermione grumbled.

“Well, Hannah will be here shortly, so why don’t you freshen up, then come on out,” he said as he headed back out the door.

Hermione briefly leaned her head back against the headboard and moaned, before easing her way out of the bed and into the bathroom adjacent to her room. She turned on the shower and stepped in, she let the hot stream run over her as she leaned her head against the cool tile. _I kissed Neville Longbottom._ She was mortified at her actions from the night before. She’d never had so much to drink at one time, and she had been so distraught over that picture. God, that picture! What was wrong with Ron, anyway? She had barely had a full letter from him in three weeks, and then when he does send her post, it’s that stupid picture with his gorgeous partner fawning all over him. Was she losing him to that Lavender Wannabe? She turned off the water and stepped out of the shower and wrapped herself in the big, fluffy towel. She walked into her bedroom and put on a pair of jeans and a warm jumper. She was just running a comb through her hair when she heard a tapping at the window. She turned and saw Pigwidgeon fluttering around frantically outside. She walked over and opened the window, letting the little fluff ball in out of the cold. He zoomed around the room several times, before finally stopping for a moment on the finial of her four poster bed. She reached out and untied the letter, after which he zoomed around the room some more. She sat on her bed and opened it.

_Dear Hermione,_

_I’m sorry I have written a proper letter in weeks. Training has been keeping me busy and we’ve been out late every night for two weeks working on night manoeuvres. I’ve only had time to send that quick note yesterday with the picture of us after one of our defensive classes. Harry really showed off some brilliant moves that day. Jo did some fancy work as well, but nothing compared to what I’ve seen you do. She’s really rather talented when it comes to defensive spells but doesn’t know a wit about strategy._

_How are your classes going? Brilliant, I’m sure, just like you. I hope they’re going well. Have you had a chance to talk to Kingsley about doing your internship at the Ministry? He’d be daft to turn you down._

_Harry and I have been granted a furlough for a weekend next month. It’s only one weekend, though, so not much time. We were thinking that maybe we’d not tell Mum that we were coming and just stay with you and Ginny. I know she’ll have kittens if she ever finds out, but I haven’t seen you in six bloody months, and I’d really rather not have to spend any time away from you if I can help it._

_I miss you so much, Hermione. It’s gone 2am here, but I couldn’t sleep for missing you so much. I can’t wait until next month when I can see you, hold you…kiss you again._

_Harry’s swearing at me to turn out the light, so I guess I’ll go for now. Only a few more weeks until we can be together. Sleep well and take care of yourself and Ginny._

_All my love,_   
_Ron_

Hermione folded the letter and wiped the tear that had fallen out of her eye. Ron was coming next month. She couldn’t wait. She breathed in deeply and the smell of coffee assaulted her. She remembered that Neville was waiting in the other room. She sighed and went into the kitchen where she found him sitting at the table reading the Daily Prophet and sipping a cup of coffee. She saw another cup sitting at another chair, and quietly sat down and poured some cream and sugar into it. She tentatively looked up at him. He was not the pudgy little boy he had once been. He had grown into a tall, strong man. He had developed a self-assuredness and was just more comfortable in his own skin. She put the spoon down and opened and closed her mouth several times before finally speaking.

“Neville, I just want to apologize for my behaviour last night. I’d had a really rotten day, but I should have stuck with the butterbeer. I can’t thank you enough for getting me home.”

Neville looked at her and smiled, “It was nothing, Hermione. I’m glad I was there to help.”

“I also wanted to apologise, for, um…kissingyoulastnight,” she said in one breath.

Neville looked at her with a smile, and simply said, “What kiss? As far as I’m concerned, last night I helped a good friend who was upset and thoroughly pissed get home safely. Listened to her complain about how much she misses her boyfriend, whom I know loves her very much, and helped her into bed. That’s all that happened last night,” he said with a wink.

“Neville, you really are the sweetest person I’ve ever met,” Hermione said once again, only this time she didn’t fall asleep, “Hannah is incredibly lucky to have you.”

Neville blushed fiercely. “And Ron is very lucky to have you, and he would never risk it for some blonde Lavender Wannabe.”

Hermione laughed and gave him a quick hug just as there was a knock on the door. She got up and opened it to let Hannah in. She had a bag of groceries in her hands and proceeded to make a breakfast of eggs and sausages for the three of them.

“Thanks so much for that hangover potion, Hannah. It worked wonders.”

“I’m glad you’re feeling better this morning, Hermione, but perhaps, next time, you should stick to the butterbeer,” Hannah said with a laugh. Hermione felt infinitely better after the hearty breakfast and her letter from Ron. Only a few more weeks and she’d be able to see him again. Today was already looking brighter.

**Author's Note:**

> The idea for this story has been bouncing around my head for months now. I couldn't quite figure out how to flesh it out, though, and started Veterans of Hogwarts as a foundation for mainly this story. I think this one-shot stands on its own, but it takes place about 6 months after the endo of VoH.


End file.
